No More Seasons

SPECTATOR COMPETITION No 405 . May Byron to the idea that the Earth will eventually reach a the path of its orbit.

i_terred from the wording of this competition, a „ ,n,d H. I. Sword y defined them neatly by asking nether the Earth would present one of its poles democratic its girth to the Sun. I am glad to say the .110cratic decision (over two-thirds of the entry) is in favour of 'verticalration ' to use G. G Mack!illan' gy G. s phrase, which entails far less drastic r...t?lults than those envisaged by the competitors decided on horizontal gyration. who out the bewildered non-mathematicians beyond felt the implications of the subject to be ulcyond them (though I must pass on Adrienne Gas- 2igoe's comment : 'It reminds me of that examination question—Describe the creation of the world, touching briefly on its effects'), a larger "trY than expected contained one or two Flat- earthers, three or four Scared-stiffs, and four or five from the Couldn't-care-less school; with the main body largely concerned with the effects on seasons and climate, cricket, conversation, lovers, fashions and birds, in that order. I must apologise to R. A. McKenzie for the word 'path' being printed instead of 'plane,' and 5 A. Lindon also considers me blameworthy :

And when I wake up the lodger shouting, Eccentricity of a planet ! tell him, Don't blame me, W. May Byron beganet. How should I know what happens when axes go Perpendicular?

Let 'em drop out altogether, I'm not particular; Most likely their influence makes the sea choppy, Or something equally soppy. Parodies were not asked for, but there was another Ogden Nash (besides this one) from P. 0. G. white, an e. e. cummings from Gloria Prince and a Louis MacNeice frbm J. A. Lindon, all of them good. D. R. Peddy sent a Kipling : Dawn will not come like thunder, chum;

It won't come up at all. and there were a few not-so-good Shakespeares.

Commendations to all the competitors already mentioned (with special congratulations to R. A. McKenzie for his clever Ruminative Rondeau) Plus J. E. Cherry, Vera Telfer, Areas, H. Hard- man, P. W R. Foot, Andrew Russell and David ,'"acMillan. Choosing the winners was not easy, divided I finally recommend that the prize, money be tiivided equally among J. Aitken, Kenneth S. kitchin, Paul McClelland and H. B. McCaskie.

PRIZES

(J. Arm EN)

Our earth along its orbit moves askew To right or left according to our view; And men who walk upon its surface share In that obliquity. So it is rare Among earth's many million souls to find One upright and uncompromising mind. But, if on orbit axis stands erect, It is not too fantastic to expect Mankind to he affected by that pull, And the exception come to be the rule.

(KENNETH S. KITC1IIN)

We shall not see that upright earth Where.(we hope) upright men Shall number from their day of birth

Nine hundred months and ten—

For years would be no more, and here's the reason : The Moon alone would rule man's sense of season.

Let poles freeze on! Let tropics frizzle! Britannia still would own Her share of heaven's gentle drizzle Within the temperate zone : Well may we contemplate with joy a scene In which the royal Oak is ever green!

(PAUL MCCLELLAND)

A 17TH CENTURY CONCEIT

On what strange Chances all our Pleasures rest, Since Life is seasoned by a tilting Ball Which brings the Spring in verdant Beauty dressed, Nostalgic Autumn and the leaves that Fall.

Let Time correct the tilt and Fancy secs, Summer and Winter only, Day and Night : A double-headed Hell, one side to Freeze, The other roasting in perpetual Light. .

Never to see the Evening Sun go down,

The primrose Bloom, Summer her robe divest, No moonlit night a lovers' Idyll crown—

On what strange Chances all our Pleasures rest.

(H. 13. MCCASKIE)

We women pray to thee, Lord, please, oh please, Tilt back our axis twenty-three degrees; Let it incline at its old angle, Lord, This new one leaves us infinitely bored.

What have we done that we should suffer so?

There are no seasons now: no come and go Of fashions and of fabrics; none may think Of summer cottons or of winter mink; None satisfy inborn ancestral needs For spring creations and for autumn tweeds;

Our lives are grey and all our future black; Have pity on us, Lord, and tilt it back.

COMMENDED

(J. r.. CHERRY)

me youngist sez hits the horbit an mind you e wun a skolcrship so c nos wot es torking akin the heskimos wont mind e sez but cuzin fibs 'oin ter ave a thin time wiv er herpartments hat blaekpool we aint goin ter git no summer of coarse we aint goin ter git no winter neiver an me ole man want ter no wots ter appen ter is long pants c scz the vegiterbles on the herlotmcnt wont no if theyrc comin or goin as tho its my fort the lojjcr scz rot itll be orl rite if the mp's gits there fingers out an halters summer time that will give them sumthink tcr do besides muckin abart wiv wagis mind you i thinks its them there spudnicks evry time they wip round they wack agin the pole wot wiv them an the atomboms wot else can we expec.

SPECTATOR COMPETITION No. 408 Set by Papoose In mediaeval times the term 'cantilena' was often applied to a ballad on a sacred subject,• e.g., the famous monorhymed Passiontide Lament begin- ning:

The sufferings of sweet Jesus Christ and His sore agony Hear ye, good people, one and .all, of high and low degree.

Seven years He trod a pilgrim's way, right penitentially, And fasted forty days and nights in His humility.

Competitors are invited to insert five or six di.p- tichs between these two, on the subject of the Birth and Infancy of Christ. Prize: six guineas.

Entries, addressed 'Spectator Competition No. 408,' 99 Gower Street, London; WO , by Decem- ber 17. Results on December 27.